The Poetry Corner

Why Washington Retreated

By Ellis Parker Butler

1775 Said Congress to George Washington: "To set this country free, You'll have to whip the Britishers And chase them o'er the sea." "Oh, very well," said Washington, "I'll do the best I can. I'll slam and bang those Britishers And whip them to a man." 1777 Said Congress to George Washington: "The people all complain; Why don't you fight? You but retreat And then retreat again." "That can't be helped," said Washington, "As you will quite agree When you see how the novelists Have mixed up things for me." Said Congress to George Washington: "Pray make your meaning clear." Said Washington: "Why, certainly But pray excuse this tear. Of course we know," said Washington, "The object of this war It is to furnish novelists With patriotic lore." Said Congress to George Washington: "Yes! yes! but pray proceed." Said Washington: "My part in it Is difficult indeed, For every hero in the books Must sometime meet with me, And every sweet-faced heroine I must kiss gallantly." Said Congress to George Washington: "But why must you retreat?" Said Washington: "One moment, please, My story to complete. These hero-folk are scattered through The whole United States; At every little country town A man or maiden waits." To Congress said George Washington: "At Harlem I must be On such a day to chat with one, And then I'll have to flee With haste to Jersey, there to meet Another. Here's a list Of sixty-seven heroes, and There may be some I've missed." To Congress said George Washington: "Since I must meet them all (And if I don't you know how flat The novels all will fall), I cannot take much time to fight, I must be on the run, Or some historic novelist Will surely be undone." Said Congress to George Washington: "You are a noble man. Your thoughtfulness is notable, And we approve your plan; A battle won pads very well A novel that is thin, But it is better to retreat Than miss one man and win." Said Congress to George Washington: "Kiss every pretty maid, But do it in a courtly way And in a manner staid And some day when your sword is sheathed And all our banners furled, A crop of novels will spring up That shall appal the world."